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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26007799">From Memories of Old, To You Who's New</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fae_fire/pseuds/fae_fire'>fae_fire</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>EXO (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:28:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,652</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26007799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fae_fire/pseuds/fae_fire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sehun huffs, the beginning of a laugh, but the more he looked at Kyungsoo, the more his demeanour changed. He sat up straight, irises shaking as they look into Kyungsoo’s. </p><p>“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. He fiddles with the lips of his paper cup. “The most logical answer would be to try and take those chances…” he pauses, “but if we were really meant to be, then why didn’t we get together in the first place?”</p><p>Kyungsoo scratches the back of his neck. “I don’t know? Maybe you never got to say you love him because you were too afraid to, and then next thing you know, he’s already going out with someone else, they’re engaged, and then three years later, you’re the groomsman to his wedding.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Oh Sehun, Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>From Memories of Old, To You Who's New</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Park Chanyeol was a beacon. He shined and took everyone’s attention in the room. It was inevitable. He was tall and handsome, had adorably big ears, and very pretty eyes. He was in the basketball varsity, can be seen out on the field with his guitar, and he’s probably one of the friendliest persons anyone can meet.</p><p> </p><p>And Kyungsoo – shy, socially inept, quiet Kyungsoo – has fallen for the guy he’s, by popular drama trope alone, should not have fallen in love with at first sight. They met on their graduating year, became groupmates for a class, and hit their friendship off from there.</p><p> </p><p>It’s supposed to be Chanyeol who takes him out of his shell, and Kyungsoo would reel some of his craziness in. Together, they’d make a great duo, completing each half of a circle, like yin and yang.</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, Kyungsoo isn’t in a drama. This is real life. All of that happened, except Chanyeol never fell in love with him.</p><p> </p><p>Fast forward three years, and Kyungsoo is in a church, wearing a tux, because he’s one of the groomsmen for Chanyeol’s wedding.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t even know what he’s doing here. He’s the only college friend Chanyeol kept in touch with. Kyungsoo thinks it’s lucky that Chanyeol chose his cousin to be his best man. He doesn’t think he can handle it, after all the years of pining. Still, he’s there, unable to keep away up to the end. He’s even helping to straighten everything out.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo sighs. One of the groomsmen had apparently lost his tie, and Kyungsoo was sent to the mall for a quick replace. It’s fine, he’d met Sehun before, albeit briefly. He seems like a good person and Sehun couldn’t do it because he had a lot of other duties, so Kyungsoo volunteered.</p><p> </p><p>Besides, Kyungsoo needed to get away, just for a little while.</p><p> </p><p>He’d been back a moment ago. He’s roaming, admiring the small domed Church on top of a small hill.</p><p> </p><p>It’s magnificent. Designed in fairy lights, pastel pinks, and tulle. The various flowers make the place look like it’s from a fairytale. It’d be so nice to get married today, in a place as wonderful as this place, and to the man he’s loved all along.</p><p> </p><p>If only… <em>if only…</em></p><p> </p><p>His phone rings, an unknown caller ID.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Hello?</em>” the caller says once he picks up. “<em>Kyungsoo-ssi? Hello? This is Sehun.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, Sehun-ssi,” Kyungsoo greets back. He looks around. He can barely remember the tall boy’s face, but he’ll know him when he sees him, if he sees him. “I’m at the Church, where are you?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>At the Church, too. I’m by the stairs.”</em></p><p> </p><p>There are stairs in order to reach the Church, narrow and a little steep, made of stone. It’s by the side. Kyungsoo had just been there, so Sehun must have been waiting for Kyungsoo at the foot.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo facepalms. How can he be so stupid? He rushes.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo is scatterbrained. This wedding is getting to his head. He’s unreliable, and all he really wants to do is to find a corner and down a bottle of wine. He was hopeful this morning, since the rain was pouring. It’s stopped, leaving only slippery grounds and Kyungsoo’s hope shriveled.</p><p> </p><p>If only…<em> if only he said something – anything – then maybe he and Chanyeol had a chance.</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>Kyungsoo’s skipping down the steps.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>If only he confessed, then Chanyeol may have found out that they had something special.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Kyungsoo-ssi!”</p><p> </p><p><em>If only he told him </em>I love you, <em>then Chanyeol might have said</em>, I love you too<em>.</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>But Kyungsoo missed those chances like he misses a step.</p><p> </p><p>He slips as he turns. A hand reaches out to his outstretched one.</p><p> </p><p>But unfortunately, like the day he met Chanyeol, he falls.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Dude, dude, dude!” the voice was deep and smooth, a little nasally. “Prof’s here, wake up!”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo comes to with a severe crick in his neck and a Spartan kick of déjà vu.</p><p> </p><p>He’s in Study Hall B-2, where he spent most of his college lectures. The room is as freezing as he remembers, and the smell hasn’t really changed – which is to say, the smell of old books and older wood.</p><p> </p><p>He knows the professor in front too. Jae-seosangnim was young when he was taking his English courses back in college. That was supposed to be three years ago. He hasn’t aged a day.</p><p> </p><p>“Dude, take the card,” the boy seated at his right hisses at him.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo turns. <em>What?</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Sehun?</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>It can’t be, though. This guy has a thinner face, but it’s definitely Sehun’s face. Handsome, in all possible senses. Straight nose, masculine jawline, thin and interesting lips. His black hair fall into his eyes the way Kyungsoo’s only ever seen in anime.</p><p> </p><p>Sehun nods his head to the other direction, leading Kyungsoo to an old classmate reaching out to him a stack of cards. By muscle memory, Kyungsoo takes them, gets one for himself and passes to his right. This was routine, done on every first day of each class. He writes his name and, to his own surprise, his old student number.</p><p> </p><p>“What class is this?” he asks the boy with Sehun’s face.</p><p> </p><p>He’s given a suspicious look. “Creative Writing?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo clears his throat, “I mean, what section?”</p><p> </p><p>“4T.”</p><p> </p><p>He writes it down as curiosity eats him up. They’re made to pass back the cards and he gasps as he sees the name.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Oh Sehun?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Sehun laughs at him, this time. His eyes have a twinkle, and when he laughs, he looks even younger. “Yeah, dude, how about you, what’s your name?”</p><p> </p><p>The class starts and Kyungsoo swears this is the same class he attended years ago. Creative Writing, a fun elective, a class he thought would be a wonderful break from thesis. Jae-seosaengnim became a favorite prof because of this, and he’s got an inkling that it’s the same things he’s told them the first time he’s taken the class.</p><p> </p><p>It’s weird – what’s happening? He’s graduated, for God’s sake. It was one of the happiest days of his life, to finally get out of this hellhole. Is this some kind of punishment? Did he sin so bad that God had to ring him back to sleepless nights of staying in front of his laptop, desperate to meet a deadline?</p><p> </p><p>God cannot be so cruel, right?</p><p> </p><p>Apparently, They can.</p><p> </p><p>‘Cause Chanyeol enters the room in a rush and a huff, the way he did years ago.</p><p> </p><p>He apologizes and grins, sending electricity through Kyungsoo’s body. It’s the same smile, the same posture. It’s the same confidence that drew him in the first time. Kyungsoo is suddenly unsure that he never remembered, because the sight of Chanyeol in his basketball jersey and jeans brought too many memories.</p><p> </p><p>It felt too familiar to ignore. At the same time, it’s too unfamiliar to remain unquestionable.</p><p> </p><p>In that one moment, Kyungsoo is suddenly sure. This is his second chance.</p><p> </p><p>He lets out a shaky breath. Maybe this time, he can turn all his <em>what if</em>’s into <em>when</em>’s.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>­</p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Hey, wait up.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“I didn’t get your name.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Kyungsoo? Cute.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Hey, okay! I get it. You’re not. Do you have another class? Wanna get something to eat?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh. It’s fine. I’ll see you next week, then?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s Sehun, by the way. I-in case you forgot.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Take care, Kyungsoo!”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t know Chanyeol right away. He couldn’t; he never had the courage to ask him his name. Luckily, their professor instructed them to bring in any creative work they’d made. And on the third week of class, they’re partnered up to critique each other’s works.</p><p> </p><p>Just like before.</p><p> </p><p>“Please be nice to me, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says, after introducing himself needlessly. “I’m fragile.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo already knows what Chanyeol will tell him later. In his hands are the lyrics to a song he’s currently working on. It’ll only be a memory in the future, replaced by newer, better songs he’d come to produce over the years.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo reads it, and he’s bitter. He doesn’t remember how the song goes, but he remembers all the feelings. All the nights they spent trying to form the right words.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a song he wrote with him, he finished with him, but never sung.</p><p> </p><p>Because Kyungsoo was too much of a coward for anything.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s simple,” Kyungsoo says, honestly. Years of friendship have told him that Chanyeol values that more than blind praises. “It feels like a poem, but isn’t as deep. Are these… supposed to be lyrics?”</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol nods enthusiastically. “It’s for this song I’m writing – well, trying to. Lyrics are hard for me so I thought maybe taking this creative writing course would help me.”</p><p>               </p><p>“Then I think they’re good,” Kyungsoo says, handing the paper back. “If it’s a song, then I can’t treat it as a poem. Songs are meant to be heard, right? To be performed? So without the music, the lyrics are only at its fifty-percent capacity.”</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol stares at him, the way he does when he contemplates Kyungsoo. Before, Kyungsoo’s fluster was immense. He’d splutter. He’d blush from the tip of his nose to the tips of his toes.</p><p> </p><p>He supposes he should try to act the way he did before. If he didn’t, then he might not have the same friendship with Chanyeol.</p><p> </p><p>But it’s difficult. He can’t look at Chanyeol and not feel nostalgic. He can’t look at Chanyeol and not pray for a little miracle. He can’t look at Chanyeol and not hear the wedding bells that weren’t meant for them.</p><p> </p><p>Looking at Chanyeol pains him; and he’s struggling not to let that show too much to even try to act like he hasn’t changed in three years.</p><p> </p><p>“I never though of it like that,” Chanyeol says. His grin is different, but Kyungsoo knows it well. “I suppose I should sing it for you sometime, then.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo nods, hopeful. “I suppose.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>­</p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Kyungsoo! Have you partnered up for the assignment?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, wanted to ask you. I’ll just ask someone else; it’ll be fine.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Anyway, you’re heading to the Main Building, right? Me too.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Let’s go there together from now on.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo has a plan.</p><p> </p><p>Well, less of a plan and more of a general idea, but it’s a plan nonetheless.</p><p> </p><p>He’s going to make his feelings <em>so </em>obvious, Chanyeol will have no choice except to see him as a love interest. It’s fool-proof, straight-forward, and impossible to mess up because if there are no details, there is nothing to mess up.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo half-thinks he’s a genius.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Step #1: Go to his basketball game and show support!</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol is a small forward on the basketball team. Kyungsoo’d think that with his height, he’d be center. Instead, Kyungsoo was more than a little miffed that there were persons taller and broader than Chanyeol in their university. Not that he wants Chanyeol to be the tallest and broadest, it just emphasized how small and narrow Kyungsoo is.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo is <em>not </em>insecure at all.</p><p> </p><p>He brushes that off. He’s here for the game, one of the rare ones when they’re the Home team. The bleachers are full, and the crowd is wild. Their team is down by five points. Four quarters in, a few seconds left, this is the real deal.</p><p> </p><p>The game is close, but Kyungsoo cannot look away from Chanyeol. Tall and his arms shining with sweat, Kyungsoo has to lick his lips. The white uniform suits Chanyeol well; it’s loose but there is no denying the figure underneath. The fabric clings in the right places.</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol moves. The ball is passed to him. He shoots, and their team closes the gap by three points.</p><p> </p><p>The other team calls for a timeout, but it’s never quiet. Everyone is pumped up, as if Chanyeol’s last shot has brought last hope. Unfortunately, it’s the other team’s ball.</p><p> </p><p>The timeout ends and the referee blows his whistle. The ball is thrown inbound. Suddenly there is a flash of white – an interception in the last possible seconds.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone is running to the other half of the court, Chanyeol at the front. Once more, the ball is passed to him and as it flies through the air.</p><p> </p><p>The ball lands perfectly in Chanyeol’s hands, but there’s a man guarding him. He dribbles to the three-point line. It’s crucial – he can take the riskier shot from there to win, or he can play safe and drive it deeper for overtime. Either way, if he doesn’t make it, they lose.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo’s heart is pounding with each dribble. The seconds tick down.</p><p> </p><p>With all his might, he screams, “YOU CAN WIN THIS PARK CHANYEOL!”</p><p> </p><p>It resonates through the gymnasium, drowned out by the noise but nevertheless heard.</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol dribbles once past the three-point line, but abruptly makes a step back. His defender staggers on the momentum and lurches forward, unable to reach Chanyeol as he goes back beyond it. Chanyeol is left unchallenged.</p><p> </p><p>He shoots. He scores.</p><p> </p><p>Park Chanyeol wins them the game.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Step #2: Gush. Don’t hold back, G U S H!</p><p> </p><p>“<em>You’re so amazing, Channie. You’re a God on the Court!</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>I was so nervous, but I was sure we’d win. With you, of course!</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>They couldn’t keep up with you at all! You deserve a red carpet for the last play.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol has an ego, and he’s likes it fed. If Kyungsoo wants to get noticed, he has to do that too. The thing is, he’s not like Chanyeol’s fans – girls <em>or </em>boys. If three years of being unable to confess his feelings has told him anything about himself, it’s that Kyungsoo has a difficult time finding words fitting for his feelings.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo can’t gush like them, even when Chanyeol’s laughter indicates how much he enjoys it.</p><p> </p><p>Something has to change.</p><p> </p><p>He slips through the spaces just to reach Chanyeol. There’s too many people too eager, wanting to celebrate with the team that’s just won. Kyungsoo is pushed and pulled, he stumbles.</p><p> </p><p>Like a dream, he falls right into Chanyeol’s sturdy arms. The varsity player is laughing at him, skin glistening and head haloed by the light above them.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo struggles to stand on his own two feet. His knees are weak.</p><p> </p><p>“You all right there, Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol checks on him.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo forces himself not to shy away. “Y-yeah,” he manages to say. “I just got a bit… carried away there.”</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol laughs. “Quite literally, too.”</p><p> </p><p>This is why Kyungsoo fell in love with Chanyeol. He’s too kind. He never means anything with malice, and is always welcoming with a smile. With him, Kyungsoo feels light.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo goes quiet too long and Chanyeol scratches the back of his head. “Thank you for coming. Your support means a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>It sounds generic to Kyungsoo’s ears. “I, uhh… I thought you did well.”</p><p> </p><p>“I did <em>well?</em>” Chanyeol snorts.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Ah, fuck. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It’s probably the lamest thing he’s heard all day.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean! Not well,” Kyungsoo awkwardly splutters. It worsens when Chanyeol raises a single brow. “No, you didn’t do not well. Of course you did well! You were great! That’s it, <em>great</em>. Like, I don’t even watch a lot of basketball, but watching you made it all exciting and worth it and–”</p><p> </p><p><em>Ah, fuck him to hell. </em>Kyungsoo didn’t mean to say that. He didn’t want to confess in a sea of people probably wanting to do the same thing. Shit, Kyungsoo is so lame. He can’t embarrass himself more now, can he? Some plan this is, he can’t even–</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol takes his hands. Kyungsoo hadn’t realized he was wringing his wrists nervously. Just like that, Chanyeol calms him down.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Kyungsoo, really,” Chanyeol promises. “When I heard you cheer for me, I think that’s what made the last basket go in. I heard you and I just… I did it. I took the shot. So, thank you so much for being here.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo’s heart swells. His mouth hangs. He stares in wonder how a man like Chanyeol is even possible.</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol’s smile is still genuine when he pulls away, snapping Kyungsoo out of his sudden trance.</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway,” he says, “I need to go. There’s a final huddle in the changing room.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo frantically nods his head.</p><p> </p><p>Then he vigorously shakes it.</p><p> </p><p>Step number three! He forgot about step number three!</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Ah, fuck him to hell and all the way back!</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Step #3: Bring him water, or those honey-infused lemons you saw on Kuroko no Basket, anything to replenish his strength. (If he asks for a kiss, don’t faint)</p><p> </p><p>How can he forget? He brought nothing.</p><p> </p><p>But Chanyeol is standing there, waiting for him to speak. Kyungsoo can’t leave him hanging.</p><p> </p><p>“We should,” Kyungsoo struggles. His brain can’t think up an excuse so it settles for the truth. “We should go for a drink! I wanted to bring you water or something, but I completely forgot. So… we should go for a drink? My treat! For your victory!”</p><p> </p><p>It’s a quiet few seconds before Chanyeol’s chuckling, mumbling under his breath, “victory?” He starts walking away, but gives Kyungsoo a cute, happy little punch. “Yeah, dude, I’ll hold you to that.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo beams. This is wonderful.</p><p> </p><p>All in all, it worked out just as he planned. ­</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Soo! You watched the game too?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Right, Chanyeol played. Of course you would.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Dude, that was you? No wonder they won. If you cheered like that for me, I’d make sure to win, too.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“Really? Sure, I can eat. I know just the place.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The thing with them, Kyungsoo supposes, is that from the moment they met, they were inevitable. Kyungsoo swears he feels it in his bones, that no matter where, no matter when, they fit together.</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol invites him to his gigs. Chanyeol introduces him to his friends. Chanyeol starts playing mobile games with Kyungsoo. They are a natural progression, as inexplicable as inevitable. They happened; even if they didn’t happen in that way Kyungsoo truly wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Because there were days, Kyungsoo forgot, when Chanyeol had friends other than Kyungsoo.</p><p> </p><p>He sighs. He fiddles with the bottle in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>For the most part, going back in time meant having to deal with the things he’s already gotten over and never wanted to come back to. Gathering data was a pain, writing narrative for them was worse. Then the more he thinks about defense; the more his skin wants to crawl.</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol is out with his other friends; and Kyungsoo is stuck at the twenty-four hour McDonald’s just outside their campus. Their iced coffee is basic, but it’s better than blowing his budget on overpriced caffeine.</p><p> </p><p>This sucks. Three years later and he still has an aversion to finding goddamn references. He can try to win back Chanyeol, but God forbid him try not to kill anybody for the second time around because <em>Times New Roman, 12, double-spaced</em> is making him puke.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re looking just about ready to die,” someone says. Oh Sehun is standing in front of him, in a grey hoodie and pink shorts that go way above his knees. His hair is disheveled. He has a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. In his hands is a tray of burger, fries, and two cups of hot coffee.</p><p> </p><p>“I just about am.” Kyungsoo moves his stuff to make some room for the boy who invited himself to sit. Perhaps, having another person around can keep him from going insane.</p><p> </p><p>Sehun takes out a stack of readings and a highlighter. Wordlessly, he places one of the cups in front of Kyungsoo. The latter doesn’t question it, but takes it as the lifeline that it is.</p><p> </p><p>Sehun can only hum, “Same.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo lets him be.</p><p> </p><p>Sehun is broad-shouldered and filled out, even though he’s a whole year younger. Taller, broader, and buffer than Kyungsoo, especially since in College, he was too thin.</p><p> </p><p>(Maybe Kyungsoo has a type for taller, broader, and buffer guys. Also probably why he remembered Sehun in the first place.)</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol called him a twink once, so Kyungsoo locked him in a chokehold.</p><p> </p><p>Still, Kyungsoo is years older, or his mind(?) is. He doesn’t feel that much older. It feels like he’s seeing the younger versions of themselves through his younger version’s eyes. It’s like he’s on a little acid trip.</p><p> </p><p>Well…</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Sehun,” Kyungsoo calls, kicking the younger’s leg gently. “What would you do if you went back in time?”</p><p> </p><p>Sehun snorts, still attractive. “That’s a totally expected question.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just answer, damn.” Kyungsoo has to laugh. Sehun’s grin is infectious. There’s just something about him, now that Kyungsoo is paying attention. Sehun is captivating in his own right.</p><p> </p><p>“Depends,” Sehun replies after contemplation. He leans in, resting his chin on his hand. “Do I know the winning numbers for the lottery?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo hisses. “Fuck off.”</p><p> </p><p>“You asked!” Sehun’s eyes crescent in laughter.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo’s widen in disbelief. “I was being serious!”</p><p> </p><p>“Me too!”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo throws a fry at him. There’s no two ways about it: Sehun is attractive. He’s gorgeous when he’s serious, beautiful when he laughs. But Kyungsoo can’t figure out what he’s doing here.</p><p> </p><p>Studying, obviously – but he didn’t mean here as in <em>McDonald’s</em>, but <em>here</em> as in wherever the fuck Kyungsoo found himself in. As far as Kyungsoo is aware, Sehun never went to his college. It’s weird.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe this is all a dream.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t give you an answer beyond that, sorry,” he catches Sehun saying, “I never really thought about it.”</p><p> </p><p>In that case, Kyungsoo didn’t have anything real to lose, did he?</p><p> </p><p>“Suppose you had the chance to go back in time,” Kyungsoo soldiers on. “And you liked this someone but missed your chance of telling them you liked them, and the two of you are clearly meant to be, but then he’s going to get married to someone other than you? What’d you do? If you were able to go back in time?”</p><p> </p><p>Sehun huffs, the beginning of a laugh, but the more he looked at Kyungsoo, the more his demeanour changed. He sat up straight, irises shaking as they look into Kyungsoo’s.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. He fiddles with the lips of his paper cup. “The most logical answer would be to try and take those chances…” he pauses, “but if we were really meant to be, then why didn’t we get together in the first place?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo scratches the back of his neck. “I don’t know? Maybe you never got to say you love him because you were too afraid to, and then next thing you know, he’s already going out with someone else, they’re engaged, and then three years later, you’re the groomsman to his wedding.”</p><p> </p><p>“Kyungsoo,” Sehun says, without any honorific as if Kyungsoo isn’t at least a year older in age. “Did you like someone but were unable to tell them so in the three years you just stayed friends so now he’s invited you to his wedding and you’re a groomsman and then you suddenly time-traveled to three years ago when you can change everything?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo splutters. Unintelligible words and spit shot out of his mouth until he can settle on a resounding, “No!”</p><p> </p><p>Sehun rolls his eyes. “Is the guy Chanyeol?”</p><p> </p><p>“No!”</p><p> </p><p>Sehun waits. Kyungsoo squirms.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, yes,” Kyungsoo gives in. “To everything.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wow.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>That’s it?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo just spilled what could probably be his deepest secrets and, “That’s it?”</p><p> </p><p>Sehun shrugs at him. “It’s not the most ludicrous thing a fellow student has spewed to me in the middle of the night.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m telling the truth,” Kyungsoo almost yells, after lying and suddenly admitting all of them. He can’t with this kid.</p><p> </p><p>“I know, I believe you.” Sehun waves his hands as if he’s flipping all of Kyungsoo’s suspicions away. “So you <em>do </em>like Chanyeol?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo sighs. He gazes outside. At this time, there are still a lot of students roaming around. In a few hours, the number will dwindle. He remembers how it was.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t know how say it. He never told anyone of his feelings, maybe that’s part of the reason why he never said. They’re just best friends. In everyone else’s eyes, including Chanyeol’s, they’re nothing more than that.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” he finally says out loud, hands shaking. “I like Chanyeol.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s both freeing and damning, letting the words fall from his tongue. It’s acceptance and regret. It’s so many things reduced down to a single breath.</p><p> </p><p>“But he doesn’t like you.” Sehun might as well should have kicked him in the gut and pulled his hair out.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo purses his lips.</p><p> </p><p>“If he liked you, don’t you think he would’ve told you in the three years?” Sehun challenges. “If he liked you, would he be getting married to someone else?”</p><p> </p><p>The dig of Kyungsoo’s nails in his thighs are painful. “Maybe he had reasons just like I did! Maybe he didn’t think I’d love him too!”</p><p> </p><p>Sehun raises his hands. “Woah, okay, I didn’t mean it like that.”</p><p> </p><p>But it’s too late. The pain that has built up in Kyungsoo overtakes him.</p><p> </p><p>He <em>knows</em>, okay? Kyungsoo knows. Chanyeol doesn’t love him the way Kyungsoo does. Chanyeol doesn’t see him the way Kyungsoo does. Whatever they are will never be what Kyungsoo wants and forgive him for being so selfish into thinking that what he has with Chanyeol is something special.</p><p> </p><p>Because they are. Kyungsoo’s feelings are too immense for anything else. Late night coffees and early morning calls. They had that. He knows how Chanyeol’s voice sounds when he’s lonely; he knows what Chanyeol’s smile looks like when he’s in pain. He’s seen the widest of Chanyeol’s smile, and felt the warmest of his hugs.</p><p> </p><p>It’s impossible, for them to not be together in the end.</p><p> </p><p>And yet Kyungsoo felt like he’s crumbling when Chanyeol said, “I’m getting married,” when Kyungsoo hands felt too bare without a ring on any of his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>It takes one moment – no matter how remote – for his stomach to churn and his eyes to sting.</p><p> </p><p>He packs his stuff and he’s out of there in a flash. He ignores all of Sehun’s apologies, brushes off when he tries to pull his arm.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t understand. Kyungsoo isn’t here to make him understand.</p><p> </p><p>As he wills himself to reign in the tears, he looks up the sky.</p><p> </p><p>Sehun doesn’t understand.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>­</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Shit. </em>
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</p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Most Friday nights, Chanyeol has a gig in a little bar called <em>8Ball</em>. It’s tight, on Friday nights, because Saturday classes aren’t really classes in anyone’s book.</p><p> </p><p>It’s where Kyungsoo spent most of his Friday nights too, as the biggest supporter of Chanyeol’s music career. He’s a music producer now, so it all works out in the end.</p><p> </p><p>Some nights, Chanyeol DJs to 2AM. Tonight, he’s there with his band, on his guitar, in his most natural element.</p><p> </p><p>They sing a song Kyungsoo’s forgotten about; the lyrics surrounding him like an old friend. It used to be one of his favorite songs of theirs, but like everything else, it slips into the back of his memory until it’s forgotten.</p><p> </p><p>Though, clearly, never truly, cause he remembers, even if it feels like he’s hearing it for the first time all over again.</p><p> </p><p>He gravitates to the middle of the room, just beyond the small crowd. It’s what he usually did, it’s where his feet leads him to. Muscle memory, he chalks it as. All in all, nostalgia.</p><p> </p><p>They’re playing a slow love song. Chanyeol was always good with those. He’s been producing more upbeat ones recently.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo missed these. He closes his eyes and lets the music flow through him. If he tries, maybe he can remember the lyrics word-for-word. As it is, he lets it go. He rather be in that moment, re-discovering his admiration for the talented boy.</p><p> </p><p>He opens his eyes, and Chanyeol’s staring straight at him. Crescent eyes, gentle smile: it’s the beginnings of Kyungsoo falling in love. Young Kyungsoo will fall for Chnayeol’s geniuses, for Chanyeol’s kindess. He’ll love everything about Chanyeol eventually but it’s always his smile and his eyes he’ll pay attention to.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo bites his lips and smiles back.</p><p> </p><p>No matter what, he’s always be grateful for Park Chanyeol.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>­</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Sehun calls.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Kyungsoo doesn’t pick up.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Chanyeol hums. He sits beside Kyungsoo, as he usually does now in their class together. They weren’t given assigned seats, but they gravitate to each other nonetheless.</p><p> </p><p>It’s the way it was. It’s the way it is. It’s the way it’s supposed to be.</p><p> </p><p>When Chanyeol constantly finds him, Kyungsoo can’t take it as a sign that maybe he likes him too.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo pouts at him. “Shut up, Yeol.”</p><p> </p><p>Nevertheless, Kyungsoo’s still bitter at Sehun from nights before. He’s aware he has no real reason to be mad – it’s not like Sehun said anything untrue. It’s rash of him, immaturely sensitive, to boil over something so quickly.</p><p> </p><p>Then again, Sehun didn’t have to say it so harshly. Kyungsoo’s feelings aren’t just wishful thinking. He’s been with Chanyeol for a good number of years and it’s just – even the way Chanyeol looks at him, eyes soft and gentle smiles, tells him they have something there.</p><p> </p><p>He’s wallowing when there’s suddenly a warm hand massaging his nape.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>He’s forgotten how that feels like. Pressure in perfect places, heavy fingers sliding down the rights spots: he gives Chanyeol more room to work and lets his fingers do magic on the back of his neck. He sighs. When he opens his eyes, Chanyeol’s looking up at him.</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol’s too close. Kyungsoo can smell the cologne he’s wearing, can see the pores on his perfect face. He can feel Chanyeol’s warmth, and he can almost taste the kiss if Kyungsoo were to edge a little bit closer.</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol hasn’t changed. Kyungsoo’s senses pick up the difference, but at his core, Chanyeol is still the same. Kyungsoo’s heart still beats the same.</p><p> </p><p>He can hear Chanyeol in the loud room when he whispers, “Come to my place tonight. Let’s have dinner.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo’s heart almost stops. “D-Dinner?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” Chanyeol doesn’t retract his arm. Instead, he rests it on the back of Kyungsoo’s chair. He leans in closer, Kyungsoo finds it harder to breathe. “Only if… you’re up to it? We can eat out too, if you want. If you’re free?”</p><p> </p><p>If he’s– “If I– Chan– what? Of course I’m free!” Kyungsoo didn’t mean to stammer. He also didn’t mean to let the whole room hear. He clears his throat. “I mean, yeah, I… I’d love to.”</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol chuckles, his cheek dimpling. He’s insanely attractive like this, when he centers his attention on Kyungsoo and his eyes hood a little because Kyungsoo is smaller than him and he has to look down.</p><p> </p><p>“I got that, Soo-yah.” Chanyeol brushes Kyungsoo’s neck with the pad of his fingers once more, just in time as their professor walks in.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sehun approaches him outside of class, hands in his pocket and shoulders hunched. “Kyungsoo,” he begins to say. “I wanted to say I’m so–”</p><p> </p><p>“Sehun, look,” But Kyungoo’s otherwise preoccupied. He raises his hands to the taller’s face. “Am I shaking? I’m shaking. I’m totally shaking, am I?”</p><p> </p><p>“Y-yeah,” Sehun clears his throat. He takes Kyungsoo’s hands in his, and keeps them between them. Kyungsoo’s hands <em>are</em> shaking, and they’re cold too. “Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo’s eyes are sparkling as he looks up. “I think Chanyeol just asked me on a date.”</p><p> </p><p>Sehun’s face sours considerably. “Great. Anyway, I wanted to apologize for what I said when we last met. It was uncalled for and I didn’t mean to hurt you–”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo waves it off. It must have taken a lot of courage to apologize, but as Kyungsoo consolingly strokes Sehun’s arm up and down and accepts the apology, his mind can’t help but drift.</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol winked at him at the end of the class. Chanyeol said (dreamily), “See you tonight?” and then winked at Kyungsoo, and it sent all sorts of love arrows into Kyungsoo’s heart. It’s insane. It’s never happened before. This can only be the result of Kyungsoo finally <em>laying it on thick</em>.</p><p> </p><p>So he turns to Sehun, eyes sparkling and feeling lighter than he ever has since he’s come back in time. “Hey, you’re really sorry, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Sehun is suspicious of the look Kyungsoo gives him from head to toe. “Y-yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Good!” Kyungsoo pulls him by their still held hands. “You can help me prepare for my date!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>­</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“How do you even know it’s a date?” Sehun asks him as he pulls the shirts from Kyungsoo’s dresser out.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo rolls his eyes as he swings his feet on his bed. He just got out of a fresh shower, but Sehun is still rummaging through his stuff. Kyungsoo bristles. What was neatly and meticulously folded in his dresser has now been sculpted into a mountain (or a sea, it works either way).</p><p> </p><p>“He winked at me,” Kyungso replies. “If the invite to dinner isn’t enough, then the wink is surely a sign!”</p><p> </p><p>Sehun turns to him and winks. “Wanna go to dinner with me tomorrow?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo kicks him just right. He says, without any real heat, “You’re so annoying”</p><p> </p><p>The taller shrugs at him. “Well, he didn’t actually say the words, did he? He might just really want to have dinner with you, you know? <em>As a friend</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Okay</em>,” Kyungsoo gives, assuming <em>arguendo</em> (he uses that word in all of his papers to sound s m a r t), “That still doesn’t explain why he winked at me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Chanyeol winks at everybody.”</p><p> </p><p><em>True, </em>“But never at me. He winks at his other friends just for fun, but he’s never done it with me, which can only mean that this time he’s meant it.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re crazy.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo nods to himself. “Crazy in love.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just saying,” Sehun sighs, standing up from his sorry perch on Kyungsoo’s floor. “This might not go as you’d want it to. I get it, you’re happy he asked you out to dinner. But don’t you think this is too sudden? What’s with him asking you so out of the blue?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo leans back on his elbows. He raises a snooty nose. “It isn’t out of the blue, mind you. It’s the result of hard work.”</p><p> </p><p>Sehun rolls his eyes and scoff. “So you hang out with him in clubs and do to his games. Big whoop.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo scowls. “You’re just jealous.”</p><p> </p><p>“Even then, Soo,” Sehun tries. He looks the older in the eye. “Giving someone your time of day and suddenly showing up where they are unfortunately won’t make someone magically fall in love with you. You can do everything – <em>everything </em>– and they still won’t feel the same way. It isn’t always about you.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo can feel his blood boil. It’s not like he’s being willingly stupid. Is he supposed to ignore all the signs, then? Ignore everything and quote-unquote <em>use his head</em>? Even that, there must be a reason he was sent back, and this was the only plausible one.</p><p> </p><p>“Sometimes, they’ll just never… love you.”</p><p> </p><p>“God, Sehun,” he huffs. “Why can’t you be supportive? You’re supposed to be my friend.”</p><p> </p><p>Sehun’s mouth lines and a sheen of guilt flashes over his eyes. He wrings his wrists.</p><p> </p><p>“I am your… <em>friend</em>. I’m sorry I came off as if I wasn’t,” Sehun says, softening Kyungsoo’s heart. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Kyungsoo. If this is what you really want, I won’t stop you.”</p><p> </p><p>He pauses, looks Kyungsoo in the eyes when he says, “Just know that if you ever need me, for whatever reason, I’m here.”</p><p> </p><p>It sends unfamiliar warmth to Kyungsoo’s stomach. He feels it sneak to his cheeks. Sehun’s sincerity is comforting, but he flusters from the speech.</p><p> </p><p>“Just find me some clothes, d-dumbass.” He tries to be threatening. He doesn’t think the stutter helped, not by Sehun’s answering, unwavering smile.</p><p> </p><p>Sehun does as he’s asked, which is easier said than done because in the next few seconds, Sehun sighs as if the world has just committed against him the most unfortunate incident.</p><p> </p><p>“This is impossible,” the younger says. He kicks Kyungsoo’s clothes. “You’ve got nothing but grampa clothes.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo bats him with a pillow. “I don’t dress like a grampa!”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t say you dressed like a grampa,” Sehun points out, “But your wardrobe’s so boring even grampas have sweaters more interesting than this army green sleeping pill.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo takes offense to that. “<em>I </em>happen to like that sweater, thank you very much.”</p><p> </p><p>Sehun scratches his head. The he puts his hands on his hips. “You should be grateful you’re pretty and all my attention goes to your face because I am choosing not to hear what you just said.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo splutters and reds. He doesn’t know if he should be offended or flattered. Sehun doesn’t look like he’s kidding, on any portion of that statement. Kyungsoo can accept that he dresses… blandly. The other part – the first part – he isn’t sure about.</p><p> </p><p>Sehun’s dragging him by the arms soon enough, grabbing Kyungsoo’s phone, wallet, and keys.</p><p> </p><p>“What the fu – Oh Sehun! Where are we going?”</p><p> </p><p>“To my room! Where I at least have a sweater that’ll look cute on you!”</p><p> </p><p>“No, stop – let go, you dipshit! I’m in my boxers!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>­</p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“I’m serious, though, Kyungsoo. Whatever you need, just come back here, to me.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Was your day as good as you look?” Chanyeol asks, bringing out the baked spaghetti he made for them. Kyungsoo is so attracted to him right now. Handsome and of many talents, Chanyeol is more then boyfriend material.</p><p> </p><p>Sehun did well, apparently. He put Kyungsoo in the softest pink sweater he owns. It’s understandably oversized, tucked at the front into the tightest skinny jeans they had to dig from the backs of Kyungsoo’s luggage.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo clears his throat. “It was, but not as good as you.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo knows he sucks at flirting. It’s also probably one of the reasons why he’s been single all these years. His heart makes a little jump when Chanyeol giggles. It gives him enough courage to keep subtly flirting.</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol did so much for him. He made dinner <em>and </em>dessert, and offered him beer as they talked in front of ignored television. It awfully felt like their many nights back in uni, when Kyungsoo’s feelings slowly but surely built and built and built.</p><p> </p><p>They’re on their second bottles when Chanyeol takes his empty hand, plays with Kyungsoo’s fingers with his bigger ones.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo’s eyes almost bulge out at the gesture. He’s almost relucant to speak – afraid to ruin the moment.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s something about you, Kyungsoo,” he says. Far from being drunk, Chanyeol’s sincerity still comes through. “Something I can’t place.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo is trembling inside. He hopes his smile is steady when he lightly tries, “I hope it’s something good, though.”</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol rests his head on the back of the couch. Cheeks high with natural blush, the corner of his mouth tip up. He regards Kyungsoo unabashedly, looking straight into Kyungsoo’s eyes as if that would unearth all of Kyungsoo’s secrets.</p><p> </p><p>In all their time together, Kyungsoo has only kept one secret from Chanyeol.</p><p> </p><p>“W-what is it?” Kyungsoo flusters.</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he chuckles. “But everytime I talk to you, it’s like you’re at least three years older, and it feels like you know me so well.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo has no answer to that. What should he even say? That he and Chanyeol has been best friends for years? That <em>Hey, funny story, I actually time-travelled and haha you’re right I am technically three years older then you are now</em>?</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo can only laugh nervously.</p><p> </p><p>“So that’s why,” Chanyeol scoots closer, now taking both of Kyungsoo’s hands in his. “I wanted to ask you something. You don’t have to answer me right away. I can wait for you patiently.”</p><p> </p><p>This is it. Every fiber of Kyungsoo’s ignites. He was right. <em>He knew it</em>. He can’t wait to run to Sehun and tell him that Chanyeol and he <em>are</em> soulmates, and that all it needed was a bit of flirting for Chanyeol to finally confess to him.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo bites his lips. He wants to hear everything. He doesn’t want to cut Chanyeol off mid-sentence, mid-<em>I love you</em>.</p><p> </p><p>So he holds on, holds Chanyeol’s hands, holds his breath, as the man of his dream says, “There’s this guy I like, and I want you to meet him.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo raps on Sehun’s door, as hard as he could, as fast as he could. The sound echoes through the empty hall like a machine gun. Sehun opens it for him and the smaller squeezes himself inside. One foot in, and he starts stripping the sweatshirt off. In the distance, he hears his name being called, maybe a voice asking him what’s wrong, but the ringing in his ears won’t stop. He’s tugging his pants off his legs when he feels something tugging at him, at his arms, trying to make him stop. But Kyungsoo couldn’t breathe. The oxygen he’s been inhaling isn’t enough. He pushes back against whatever it is and rips the pants off his legs.</p><p> </p><p>When he looks up, Sehun’s roommate is staring at him, dumbfounded, phone already in hand. Kyungsoo doesn’t care. He heads straight for Sehun’s bed and dives underneath the covers.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t know what he’s doing here, why he went here, how he got here. All he knows is that he didn’t want to be alone.</p><p> </p><p>The lights go off and the bed dips. A hand rubs his arm over the sheets.</p><p> </p><p>“You wanna tell me what happened?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo shakes his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Did it not go well?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo nods.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want me to stay?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo pauses. He can’t think. He stays silent and lets Sehun decide for him.</p><p> </p><p>It takes a while, but in the end, the taller boy lies beside him. The bed dips further and Kyungsoo falls against the other boy. Sehun doesn’t wrap his arms around Kyungsoo, but he keeps a hand on him.</p><p> </p><p>That, and Sehun’s warmth, brings an unexpected comfort.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo’s thankful, but it doesn’t soothe any pain in his heart.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo wakes up to Sehun’s sleeping face. His eyes are weary, and he’s more exhausted after sleep. Still, it’s nice, waking up to Sehun.</p><p> </p><p>He loses the chance to dwell on it when Sehun flutters his long, pretty lashes open. Their eyes meet; Sehun sleepily smiles.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning, Soo,” he greets.</p><p> </p><p>It isn’t a good morning. Kyungsoo’s mind flashes back as to how poorly his night ended. After Chanyeol had asked, he rushed out of there. He made up some lame excuse, thanked Chanyeol for the food and headed straight into Sehun’s bed.</p><p> </p><p>It’s horrible. It’s too much like how Chanyeol invited him to be a groomsman for his wedding. It’s like nothing changed at all.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe it’s just really not meant to be,” Sehun says gently. He pulls down the blanket just a bit further to brush his knuckles against the back of Kyungsoo’s hands. “Maybe… you were sent here so you can realize that it wasn’t… that you and Chanyeol just aren’t–”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” Kyungsoo cuts him off. He sits up, the rapidness of the action causing his vision to black out for a second.</p><p> </p><p>He can’t hear Sehun say it; he can’t let him say it. If he does, then it’s true.</p><p> </p><p>But it can’t be true. It’s unfair. Kyungsoo loved Chanyeol first. Kyungsoo loved Chanyeol the longest. It can’t be true. Why can’t it be him?</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo rushes off the bed, almost tripping on tangled sheets and Sehun’s legs. He finds his pants draped over the back of Sehun’s desk chair.</p><p> </p><p>“Kyungsoo,” Sehun calls him, tone apologetic.</p><p> </p><p>The smaller pays him no mind. He can’t find the shirt he was wearing last night so he grabs a random one in Sehun’s closet, no longer having the capacity to care.</p><p> </p><p>He’s already walking to he door when Sehun grabs his arm.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo screams, “No!” as in, “No, Sehun. You’re wrong. I am going to make Chanyeol see that the person meant for him is me, and you’re going to see I’m right!”</p><p> </p><p>To his ears, he sounds so adamant – so sure that he can do this. To his wet cheeks and struggling lungs, it’s a hazy dream.</p><p> </p><p>Sehun is having none of it. “Why?” he challenges. “In your three years of being close, was there a time you didn’t show you love him? Did you ever not shouted for him in his games or support him through his dreams?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo gasps.</p><p> </p><p>“No, Kyungsoo! You’ve done all that!” Sehun pushes on. “You were by his side all along, but he still didn’t fall in love with you. Wake up!”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo’s whole body trembles. He shakes in… anger? Frustration? Disbelief at Sehun’s audacity?</p><p> </p><p>The harshness of reality?</p><p> </p><p>He pushes Sehun away from him and flees.</p><p> </p><p>Because the thing is, Sehun’s wrong. Kyungsoo hasn’t done everything to finally make Chanyeol that what they have could be something special.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo finds him alone on the bleachers, guitar in his hands and the expanse of the field before him. The wind blows, and Chanyeol’s soft hair dances with it. Kyungsoo wasn’t looking in the first place, he can’t remember how he got here at all.</p><p> </p><p>He’d let his tears get washed away with a shower, and drowned his drowsiness with coffee. Running on adrenaline and caffeine, he’s really only got one thing left to do.</p><p> </p><p>He goes up to Chanyeol with more courage than he banked on having.</p><p> </p><p>He sits next to him. Chanyeol easily notices his presence. He stops strumming his guitar, sets it on his lap and drums on its back with his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Soo,” Chanyeol greets.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo shuts his eyes. The coffee he’d drank starts to rise up in his throat, twice as bitter ad hot. He has to do this now; if he doesn’t, it’ll be another three years. It might as well be.</p><p> </p><p>He spares Chanyeol a glance. “I need to tell you something.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” The taller pauses, bites his lower lips as he stares at Kyungsoo’s face. Then, he places his guitar behind him, and angles to face Kyungsoo.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo hates it. He abhors how horrible Chanyeol is for giving Kyungsoo his full attention. So Kyungsoo provides him the same.</p><p> </p><p>“Chanyeol, I,” the words get stuck in Kyungsoo’s throat. He struggles, forces them out. “Chanyeol, I’ve loved you for the longest time. For three years, I’ve loved you but never had the courage to say.”</p><p> </p><p>He can’t look at him. He wants to run away. He tries – he really tries, because there’s no going back now. So he shakes himself, and looks Chanyeol in the eye.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t even have much more if it right now,” Kyungsoo continues. “So I’ll say it while I have it. I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Seconds go by in silence and Kyungsoo’s hope dwindles. It settles deep into his stomach, heavy and grounding. Chanyeol smiles at him kindly, and the shorter already knows what he’s going to say before he does.</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol will say thank you.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Kyungsoo.”</p><p> </p><p>Then he’ll say he’s sorry.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Finally, he’ll put an end to all of Kyungsoo’s torture by saying, “I love you but I can’t love you in the way that you want me to.”</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, the glass doesn’t shatter; in a way, Kyungsoo isn’t plunged into ice-cold startling water.</p><p> </p><p>It’s like finally trying to open a door but it’s locked.</p><p> </p><p>It’s like finally looking at the failed mark for the test he didn’t study for.</p><p> </p><p>It’s like someone telling him news he already knew.</p><p> </p><p>Because the thing is – the whole truth of it is – he might have known all along.</p><p> </p><p>Denial is impossible when there’s already been confirmation from the primary source. He can no longer pretend that they have a chance when it’s Chanyeol who snipped it himself. <em>There can’t be an ‘us’, </em>Kyungsoo repeats in his head, <em>if there is no ‘u.’</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but there’s nothing he can do about it.</p><p> </p><p>He nods and returns Chanyeol’s smile. It’s sad. He can’t feel if his heart is still beating in his chest. He can’t sense if the wind is still blowing for him. His ears are ringing from a flat-line, but he’s not Chanyeol’s problem – not this. Chanyeol can’t take responsibility for this.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than to the man he still loves. The sunshine’s dull.</p><p> </p><p>He leaves. He has nothing left to say. In a few short minutes, he gets his heart broken willingly and is literally trying to take it in stride.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, Sehun is right. There really was nothing he can do about it. Chanyeol didn’t like him like that – he will never like Kyungsoo like that. Never will, never did. Kyungsoo fooled himself. Chanyeol never even led him on. Kyungsoo was just delusional, in denial, and downright stuck in his “fate and fantasy” bullshit.</p><p> </p><p>His misery is his own fault; he has no one else to blame – and poor Sehun was caught in his own self-rage</p><p> </p><p>––Sehun!</p><p> </p><p>He needs to apologize to the guy.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo hadn’t been fair. It’s not Sehun’s fault. It’s not –</p><p> </p><p>He sees him pushing through a crowd of students, a whole head above almost all of them.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo starts running. He doesn’t know how he got here as well. His memory falters in snippets of moments. He must have mindlessly wandered, in time and space, but he’s glad it did. It’s another sudden chance, an unexpected one to make something right.</p><p> </p><p>He cries out Sehun’s name. The younger boy turns and sees him, then turns back away. He has a scowl on his face. It spurs Kyungsoo on because he’d be damned if he let Sehun be miserable too.</p><p> </p><p>He pushes through the students as it merges into a faceless grey crowd before him, keeping him from reaching Sehun. The people move about and get in his way; Kyungsoo won’t be able to reach him in time.</p><p> </p><p>“Sehun, I’m sorry!” he shouts. He doesn’t care if everyone else hears him. This isn’t a love confession, but it feels like something so similar when he first got transported back. “Sehun, you were right! Listen to me!”</p><p> </p><p>It feels like a chance to make something right, and it feels like a lesson learned in tears.</p><p> </p><p>“Chanyeol rejected me!” That made Sehun stop. He faces Kyungsoo. And in a sea of people, Sehun’s shocked expression gives him something akin to hope. “I’m hurt, but it’s okay. Took me a some time to realize, at least I got here. Maybe I just needed a run to clear out my lungs; maybe I just needed to admit it to myself.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo pants heavily.</p><p> </p><p>“Chanyeol doesn’t love me, and it’s okay. There’s nothing I can do about it; it’s how he feels and I just have to accept that.”</p><p> </p><p>The crowd stops moving. Kyungsoo pushes through.</p><p> </p><p>Kyungsoo shakes his head. The last of his teardrops fall. Kyungsoo finally emerges through the crowd, catches his breath with hands on his knees. When he looks up, Sehun’s gone down the stairs away from him. He can’t let that happen.</p><p> </p><p>He chases Sehun down despite his exhaustion. In his haste, he trips over his own feet and slips, Sehun’s name on his lips.</p><p> </p><p>Déjà vu courses through him like electricity, and he hones in on Sehun’s hand reaching out for him.</p><p> </p><p>Time slows down as Kyungsoo reaches out.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ksoo wakes up with a crick on his neck and bandages wrapped around his head. The lights are too bright, yet his eyes ache as if from too much crying. His chest is heavy, though his heart is lighter than expected.</p><p> </p><p>He wakes up in a hospital room, to a hand holding his. Sehun is sleeping beside him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>­</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Actually, I did go there. We were classmates for this one class but I never had the courage to talk to you.”</em>
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  <em>“I thought, you liked someone else anyway. What else could I do?”</em>
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